


Tradeoff

by Moit



Series: Orlijah Month 2011 [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Comedy, M/M, Masturbation, Porn Magazines, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5264324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moit/pseuds/Moit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Elijah and Orlando are schoolmates at an English boys' school. Orlando is the bloke who can get things. Elijah needs things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tradeoff

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://orlijah-month.livejournal.com/profile)[orlijah_month](http://orlijah-month.livejournal.com/) prompt #22: School Boy

_Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. – Romeo & Juliet Act II Scene 2._

Elijah found Orlando smoking behind the equipment shed, just as they’d planned.

“Have you got the stuff?” Elijah asked, glancing around nervously.

Orlando patted the sack at his feet. “You got the payment?” he asked, blowing a stream of smoke out the side of his mouth.

Elijah pulled the pack of Lucky Strikes out of his pocket, looking around again to make sure they weren’t being watched.

“Very nice,” Orlando replied, reaching into his bag to pull out a plain brown sack.

The boys swapped contraband and Elijah was hurrying across the quad before anyone could see him meeting with the most notorious boy in school. He fidgeted on the bus all the way home, scarfed down his dinner, and bid his parents an early goodnight. They looked at him curiously, but he claimed he had a ton of homework.

Unfortunately, he didn’t feel safe enough until his parents went to bed, so he spent the hours in between _actually_ doing homework and sneaking glances in the brown sack. Finally, finally, he heard the whispered voices of his parents and the soft snick of their bedroom door.

Elijah waited the span of three heartbeats before he reached for the sack. First he had to be sure his parents were in bed for the night. Normally, they never bothered him after bedtime, but he was especially paranoid tonight because of the contents of his paper sack.

After checking with his ear to the door one last time, Elijah settled on the bed with the paper sack resting on his stomach. Feeling the anticipation building, he reached inside and pulled out the magazine. The aptly named _Twinks_ cover featured two hairless young boys with their tongues wrapped around one another. Elijah felt his dick harden.

He propped the magazine up on bent knees and worked a hand underneath the khaki uniform trousers he was still wearing. With his free hand, he turned the glossy pages. He stopped on photo of two boys, one of whom had dark curly hair and a look of intense concentration on his face. His cock was buried deep inside the other boy’s body. The boy taking the cock had spiky brown kitten-hair and a creamy mocha complexion. His dark brown eyes were focused intently on the boy above him like he was the only boy in the world.

Elijah fell into the fantasy in his head.

Elijah _is the boy taking cock in the photo. Above him, his lover slides effortlessly into his body. This is their first time—Elijah’s first time, at least—and his lover has taken care to prepare him slowly and carefully. It hurts a bit at first—just a slight stretch, but his lover is patient, pausing as long as Elijah needs him to. When Elijah gives him the okay, his lover begins moving in long, pleasurable strokes._

On his bed, Elijah’s hand sped up on his cock. He licked his lips and moaned softly. He couldn’t get too loud because his parents might here, but he was unable to help just this one vocalization of his pleasure.

_Back in the fantasy, Elijah’s lover’s strokes have become more frantic, more needy. His hand goes to Elijah’s cock—Elijah would never have to jerk himself off. And his lover would never come before Elijah. The feeling of Elijah’s lover inside him and the hand on his cock brings him over the edge. He covers his stomach and moments later his lover comes deep inside him._

Elijah set the magazine aside to keep it from getting sticky. He pulled a few tissues out of the box and mopped himself up. With a satisfied sigh, he slid the magazine back inside its sack and tucked it under his mattress. He shucked his khakis and crawled into bed.

*

Normally, it wasn’t Orlando’s business to question his customers. He didn’t care if you were asking for condoms, alcohol, videos, or better marks. As long as you had the payment, he’d get your product. No problem. The harder the item was to procure, the more smokes it would cost.

What piqued Orlando’s curiosity wasn’t how hard the item was to get—gay porn mags were one of the easier products to procure. Orlando was becoming more curious because Elijah had asked for a new magazine every day for the last two weeks, and delivered smokes on time. The fact that they were gay porn didn’t even hit his radar. Like the product, the sexual orientation of his customers was none of his business. What Orlando couldn’t figure out was _what_ Elijah was doing with all those magazines. Surely one would be enough wank material for at least a week.

But since he had no other ideas, and Elijah was still placing orders, Orlando decided to ask him.

As they switched Lucky Strikes for brown sack, Orlando opened his mouth. “What do need so many mags for, anyway?” he asked, as casually as possible.

Elijah froze like a deer in headlights. The hand holding the sack clenched and his face flooded with colour. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s not like I don’t know what’s in that sack,” Orlando said coyly. He lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke gracefully out the side of his mouth. “I just can’t figure out why you need so many. Do you use the pages to clean up after you’re done, or something?”

“No,” Elijah replied quickly.

Orlando stared at him while he smoked. “What is it, then?”

“None of your business,” Elijah mumbled, and turned to leave.

“If you don’t tell me, I’m not selling to you anymore,” Orlando called out.

Elijah stopped and turned around, the sack clutched to his chest. His eyes were full of apprehension and fear. “You mean that, don’t you?”

Orlando finished his cigarette and flicked it aside. “I have enough smokes from you alone to last me the rest of the month. I can afford to pick my customers.”

Looking down, Elijah licked his lips. Orlando could tell he was considering his options. Finally, he reached into the sack and pulled out the magazine. At first, Orlando thought he’d give it back and demand his smokes. But Elijah flipped through the pages of the magazine and turned it so Orlando could see the photo of a dark haired boy.

“I’ve been looking for more of him,” Elijah said, eyes flicking nervously from Orlando’s face to the magazine. Anyone who knew Orlando would be hard-pressed to deny that the boy in the picture looked almost identical to him.

“That bloke looks just like me!” Orlando said, barking out a laugh.

Elijah looked like he wanted the earth to just open up and swallow him whole. Silently, he closed the magazine and worked it back into its paper sack. “I didn’t want you to think I was . . . you know . . . hitting on you or anything. It’s just a coincidence.”

Orlando shrugged, nonplussed. “I was just curious. Same time tomorrow, then?”

Unable to mask his surprise, Elijah nodded slowly. He tucked the magazine into his school bag and walked away. Orlando watched him go with a bemused expression on his face.

*

The next afternoon, Elijah was fidgety and nervous. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, considering Orlando already knew his secret. He fumbled the Lucky Strikes out of his pocket and reached for the brown sack, but as soon as Orlando handed it over, Elijah realised it felt conspicuously light. With a sinking heart, and Orlando’s eyes on him, Elijah reached into the sack and pulled out a single piece of paper. On it was a phone number.

Elijah glanced from the number to the smirk on Orlando’s face and his heart sank. He’d been had. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, tears beginning to prick his eyes. He was sure the number was for a self-help hotline or something similar. Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

Orlando’s dark eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “Elijah, that’s my phone number.”

Elijah’s mouth formed a little “o” of surprise, and the anger melted from his face. “Your phone number?”

“My phone number.”

“You gave me your phone number?”

“Is there an echo out here?” Orlando asked, glancing around.

“Why would you give me your phone number?” Elijah asked, confusion turning to suspicion.

Orlando just stared at him. Finally, he said, “Okay, if you’re that daft, then give me back my number and I’ll get you your magazine instead.”

This seemed to slap some realization back into Elijah. “This isn’t a joke? You really meant to give me your number?”

“You are daft,” Orlando said with finality, reaching for the paper, but Elijah held it aloft.

“I’m not daft, I just want to make sure you’re not having me on.”

Orlando sighed audibly. “Do I _look_ like I’m having you on?”

Elijah shrugged.

“Whatever,” Orlando said, picking up his bag. “Call me or don’t.”

He walked away before Elijah could stop him.

*

Once again, Elijah was waiting for his parents to go to bed. He had the cordless phone in his lap, along with the scrap of paper bearing Orlando’s number. His heart began to pound as soon as he heard his parents’ door close. This time he waited a full five minutes before he picked the phone up.

Elijah dialed Orlando’s number and put the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

Elijah found himself at a loss for words.

“Hello?” the voice on the other line repeated.

“Orlando?” Elijah finally irked out.

“This is he.”

“Hi . . . um. It’s Elijah.”

“Elijah.” Orlando rolled the name on his tongue like he was tasting a fine wine. “I wasn’t sure you’d call.”

“I . . . yeah. Yeah.” Mentally, Elijah cursed himself for his apparently pathetic conversational skills.

“The reason I gave you my number is because I wanted to ask if you were collecting photos of the bloke in the magazine because he reminded you of me, or . . .” Orlando let his question hang in the air with the potential it carried.

Truthfully, Elijah _had_ realised the boy looked like Orlando, but he never thought he’d find out. “What if he did remind me of you?”

“Then I’d probably ask you out.”

Elijah had to keep himself from giggling like a girl. “Well he did. Remind me of you, I mean.”

“In that case, do you want to go out with me tomorrow night?”

“I’d love to.”

They worked out the details and Elijah hung up the phone. He couldn’t believe he’d gone from wanking to magazines to having a real date with a real boy. Orlando, none-the-less. Before Elijah went to bed, he wrapped all of his dirty magazines in a sack and put them in the rubbish bin outside. With the real thing, he wouldn’t need them anymore.


End file.
